


Stomping on Butterflies (Being Rewritten)

by CinderedDreams



Series: A Second Breath [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Animal Death, Being Rewritten, Body Dysphoria, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Child Abuse, Character Death, Child Soldiers, Childhood Trauma, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fix-It of Sorts, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Like be careful getting attached they might die, Major Original Character(s), Moral Dilemmas, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Siblings, Self Insert but not really, Self-Indulgent, Senju Clan-centric, Swearing, Warring States Period (Naruto), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:15:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderedDreams/pseuds/CinderedDreams
Summary: Rewrite is up!





	1. Prologue

It was a stupid way to die, it wasn't meaningful in anyway.

 

I had been on a cliff with some friends, drinking around around a fire-pit. We laughed, joking around like the drunken teenagers we were. "Clay, you fucking asshole!" My friend, Bobby laughed. His laughter was a high and long cackle, so annoying. I rolled my eyes, honestly they got so annoying when they got drunk.

"Oh my god, who got the hyena going?" I groaned, Bobby turned and glared at me. It was a surprise because we talked to each other like that all the time, I didn't think now was any different.

"Shut the hell up! Who the fuck invited this twerp?" He stepped up to my face, spittle flying onto my face. The reek of alcohol on his breath made me flinch back a few steps, Bobby was the worst drunk, always trying to fight people.

"Did you just say twerp? I swear… Bobby, you are so fucking stupid." Aria giggled, laying on the ground. 

"Yeah,  _ chill  _ man." Another friend piped up, joint hanging lazily from lips. "Jay's just messin'."

"No! He wanna sound tough, so be tough." Bobby pressed, shoving me back a few inches. I swallowed, briefly looking back to see the cliff edge was too close to my liking. It was a long fall with a rocky shore before the water even reached it.

"Ay, Bobby, you gotta chill." I began, trying not to show my fear of falling to my death. "I was just joking." If he hadn't been drunk, he would of teased me back instead of acting so violent. I hate when they start drinking.

"What? You a bitch now?" Bobby snapped, closing in on me. A couple friends got up from their places on the ground, concern in their eyes.

"Bob, he's-"

With one last shove, I was falling down the side of the cliff. The wind whipped around me and nearly drowned out the sound of the horrified screams.

_ Nearly _ .

A sob ripped itself out of my throat, my hair smacked me in the face as it felt like an entirety. 

_ Sorry, Mom, Dad. _

I don't remember hitting the rocky shore.

  
  


The next breath I took was in someone's arms, cold and so small. My limbs flailed out wildly, was I still falling? No, I wasn't. My newly small body was being tucked onto a bare chest, a heartbeat in my ears and soft crooning.

Was I doing my life over? I had thought I was either going to heaven or hell but this is completely different. 

I slipped into unconsciousness.

The next time I woke, my small body was still on the body. There was a soft gibberish, rhythmic like a song but my ears didn't recognize it. It was a foreign language, so… this  _ wasn't _ my life in a do over.

A small hand rested on my head, my eyes flickered open to see a small child staring at me. A wide grin on his face as he leaned in further, my vision sharpened as he got closer. The short brown bowl cut made me wince, who did that to the child? It was totally dorky but kinda cute on a small child. He spoke in the same language as the woman, he smiled brightly at me.

Right, I can do this, just hopefully try and not die early again. 


	2. Chapter 2

I wish I could say time flew by fast, but it dragged on. It was only a few months in and I was still no closer to knowing what people were saying. Trying to decipher what those around me said was a challenge, I had no base of what anything meant. It was like being fully immersed but no one cared about trying to clarify anything.

From what my undeveloped eyes could tell, the lady caring for me was this-body's mother. She had short spiky white hair, very red eyes and was kind of quiet. I haven't met this-body's father yet, hopefully he's alive but you never know.

The sound of small feet running in dragged me from my thoughts, I turned my head to the bars of the crib. Three young faces stared back, they pressed against the bars, cooing in that weird language. These were this-body's brothers, all adorable little things that attempted to dote on me even though I didn't understand. Bowl-cut spoke his gibberish, his hand reaching through the bars to pat my head. 

Honestly, I needed to learn their names, it'd be easier than just referring to them by hair. This-body's mother walked in with her soft voice, obviously greeting her kids, who all eagerly responded. She picked me up and handed me to Bowl-cut, who giggled and poked my face. The two other kids gathered around to marvel at me despite the fact I was at least a few months old at this point. Bowl-cut plopped onto the floor while Brown hair handed him a stuffed dog. It wasn't the best stuffed animal I've seen, it was made out of some brown fabric, no fluff to fake fur, it's left eye was a big red button while the left was a small black one.

Bowl-cut attempted to play with me using the dog, he was bouncing it on the ground to mimic walking. "Woof woof!" Bowl-cut giggled, pushing the dog into my face. I forced a laugh to make it seem normal because last thing I needed was for this-body's parents to notice something off. Bowl-cut began talking but one thing was consistent, 'Inu', which to my assumption was the dog.

So, dog equals inu? This language thing is going to be harder than I thought.

"Hashirama!" A voice cut through suddenly. Both me and Bowl-cut flinched, facing some man I've never seen before. He stood in the doorway with a stern expression, his dark eyes hard. Wait… Hashirama?

_ Goddamn you, Bobby!! _

I was in Naruto! A fucking Anime that I barely finished. I had assumed that I had been born to some foreign family on the other side of the Earth but instead I was a Senju! Wait… Hashirama, Tobirama, then two irrelevant dead kids, that's how the birth order went. Did the universe truly hate me enough to kill me off young again?

 

So, This-body's name is Itama Senju, I am currently the youngest brother of Hashirama, Tobirama, and Kawarama. This-body is nearly a year old at this point and the siblings have begun training.

Kawarama grinned at me with his hands behind his back, I stared up from the floor wondering what this boy had in mind. The brown haired boy was the one closest to my physical age and seemed to stick to me like glue. 

"Ita-chan, look!" Kawarama revealed his prize, a kunai. It must've been abandoned in one of the (physically) older boys' rooms and Kawarama snatched it. I sighed, the brown haired brother was nothing but trouble and yet he was my only company. My eyes stayed glued to the kunai, anxious he'd hurt himself as he swung it around wildly. His slashes were choppy and slow as he made exaggerated motions, fighting a pretend enemy. "Die, Uchiha!" My limited vocabulary sadly included die, fight, kill, blood, stuff like that.

"Fight." I agreed blandly. My thoughts were mainly on when mother would walk in to see her toddlers with a kunai. Kawarama giggled at me, heading closer and holding out the kunai towards me. I blinked, not really processing what he wanted. 

"Here!" He insisted. My hands wrapped around the handle, it felt heavy in my chubby hands. The blade was clean enough to see a young toddler with wide brown eyes staring back. Slowly, I moved one hand from the handle to the blade, my chubby index finger gliding to the point. I wanted to test how sharp it was. The pain startled me as the kunai sliced from my nail to my finger mark. The blood started instantly, ruby red drops slowly sliding down my finger.

 

Tobirama was just about to flop on his bed, his whole body aching from training. Father was ruthless and made sure Tobirama kept pace with Hashirama, completely ignoring the age gap between them. 

"Tobi, can you do me a favor?" Mother asked, poking her head into his room. He felt like groaning into his bed, but it was  _ Mom _ so he turned to face her.

"Yes, Mother?" Tobirama said, trying to straighten out to his normal, apathetic pose. Mother gave him a pitying look and smiled softly.

"I don't want to take away from your free time but I'm about to head out, can you keep an eye out for your little brothers?" Mother practically pleaded. Tobirama nodded without considering it, sure, Kawarama was a handful but Itama was usually quiet. "Thank you, Tobi!" With that, he watched her almost run out the house. He sighed and walked to the nursery, his body screamed at him for it but there were couches in the nurser where he could relax. Tobirama opened the door and saw both Kawarama and Itama watching blood dripping down Itama's hand.

"What happened?" He demanded, rushing to his brother's side to examine the wound. It was small and mostly superficial, nail to his first flexion crease. Itama whined and tried pulling away, Kawarama guiltily kicked away a stray kunai. "What  _ happened _ ?" 

"It was an accident…" Kawarama shrugged.

"Yea! Accident!" Itama chirped, Tobirama rolled his eyes. Itama mostly repeated what people said, it was kind of odd hearing a one year old talking about fighting Uchiha.

"Kawarama, go get the wraps and alcohol." He ordered his brown haired brother, the boy pouted but left to go find it. Tobirama had no problems ordering around Kawarama, once he turned a year older he'd begin training with them.

"Wr-aps?" Itama inquired, mouth butchering the word. "Ka, wraps?" Tobirama blinked, his younger brother a mix of strange and intelligent.

"Yes, Kawarama is going to get the wraps." He confirmed, deciding to humor his brother. Speaking of the little devil, Kawarama came running in with the wraps and alcohol. Tobirama opened the bottle and poured it on the wound, screams erupted from Itama as the toddler fought against his grasp. It was far from the most painful thing Itama would go through, Tobirama was probably doing him a favor building his tolerance to pain this early.

Kawarama hovered, his eyes flickered between them, hands out like he wanted to intervene. Tobirama began wrapping the finger up, Itama trembled, his brown eyes still leaking. "Consider this your first step to becoming a shinobi, Itama, all the blood you shed will be for our Clan." He said lowly, ripping the bandage from the roll. "The only tears you give will be for our fallen clanmates." Tobirama continued, quoting their own father. "This is your will as a Senju." Kawarama's gaze burned into him, obviously recognizing a abridged version Father's words.

_ The Senju's will. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, writing in first person is kinda harder than I remember. Also writing while trying to not convey what people are saying is hard so I kinda flew through the baby years.
> 
> Ages are currently roughly like this  
> Hashirama - 7  
> Tobirama - 5/6  
> Kawarama - 3/4  
> Itama - 1
> 
> You already know ninja kids seem to mature faster, so that's why they seem a little older. Next chapter should be easier to read because Itama can actually understand them now.


	3. Chapter 3

I laid on the wooden floor of my room, my face pressed hard into it. It was mind numbingly boring to be in the house all day, I was the only one that was in all day. Hashirama and Tobirama trained for hours on end and went out into battles, Kawarama often went to run around the compound, Mother sometimes went to hang out with friends, and Father didn't even pay attention to me.

It was kind of disheartening to see my new family didn't really bother with me. According to Kawarama, my training would begin when I physically turned four.

"Do you want to go outside, Ita-chan?" Hashirama inquired, my head shot up from off the floor. My bowl-cut brother had been completely silent and I hadn't heard him approach. Now that my body was growing, the others spent time to make sure my vocabulary was advancing.

"Please?" I begged, Hashirama laughed. He bent down to ruffle my hair, laughing more at my scowl. It was still odd to see, my brother was an anime character, everyone that I knew wasn't really _real_. They were real but only in the sense that I could see, hear, feel, and smell them, everything about them was made by just one man. Hashirama was only goofy because Kishimoto made him like that, Tobirama was apathetic and standoffish because he was made to be, Kawarama was wild because that's how he was made.

"Hey!" I jolted back as Hashirama poked my face, his grin was wide.

"Sorry, you're just so cute!" Hashirama crooned, pinching my cheeks. I fought against his hands, why was the world so cruel to make me this weak?

"Cut it out!" I finally to pry his hands off my face, scooting back on my butt with my hands. The amusement sparkling in Hashirama's eyes made me question if he just allowed me to get away. "Can we go now?"

"Go where?" We whipped around to see Mother, she smiled disarmingly.

"Outside." He said, his dark eyes still sparkling. "I wanted to show Itama the compound." Mother walked further into the room, kneeling in front of me to straighten my hair, fingers softly caressing my cheeks. Surprise bubbled in me, Mother wasn't affectionate yet…

"Your hair is getting long, I can cut it." She said absently, something lighting up in her eyes. "Or if you want, you can grow it out." Her hands mussed over my hair, I blinked up at her.

"I'll cut it." I quickly replied, my hair was too odd to be long. It was horrible, one side was spiky, the other straight, how would I ever style long hair? The light in her eyes vanished and her smile became brittle, she ruffled my hair before moving back. My eyes lingered on her, Mother faced Hashirama.

"I'll have lunch ready around noon." It was useless information because that's when lunch is ready every day, Hashirama nodded though.

"Okay!"

 

There were a lot of Senju, I noted dully, my hand tightening around Hashirama's. There were no roads or streets, just dirt paths, natural paths made from people trampling the area. Houses lined the dirt paths, all made in the same traditional way, out of the same type of wood.

"Hey, Hashirama!" A woman with brown hair that reached her shoulders shouted. Her dark eyes were bright as she pulled Hashirama into a hug.

"Hi, Aunt Kishi." Hashirama greeted warmly, hugging her back.

"Oh, is that little Itama-chan?" Kishi reached for me, probably to bring me into the hug but I hurried out of reach. Her eyes softened and she released Hashirama, she sat on her haunches. "Hello, Itama, I am Kishi, your aunt." Kishi greeted me, her voice much softer than before.

"Hi, Aunt Kishi." My voice came out like a whisper, Hashirama's hand landed on my head. He smiled reassuringly down at me, it made indignation coil deep inside of me. I wasn't weak, I didn't need anyone to pity me. There was a pause, my eyes focused on the ground, was she just staring at me? Or was she expecting more out of me?

Hashirama finally seemed to pick up on the tension. " _Well_ , Aunt Kishi, I wanted to show Ita around…" He began.

"Of, course, sorry for keeping you." Kishi apologized, rising to her feet. Hashirama took my hand and began guiding us away.

"It's okay!" He replied cheerfully, throwing her a smile over his shoulder.

"You're a lot like Butsuma, Itama." That made me pause, turning my head back to see her smile. It was a few heartbeats of silence, then I looked up to Hashirama.

"Who is she?"

"Our Aunt, Father's sister."

"She's odd."

"A little, I guess." Hashirama conceded. "She means well."

Various other people stopped us to say hello to Hashirama, the brown haired boy merely smiled and politely made conversation with them. It was odd, Hashirama wasn't that old yet the Senju seemed eager to get familiar with the boy.

"Why does everyone like you?" I voiced hesitantly, Hashirama looked down at me.

"Like me? Ita-chan, you're so silly, I'm the heir to the clan. They just keep up with my progress." My brother explained, his eyes momentarily losing their light. That caused a frown on my face, of course, they didn't care about Hashirama, they cared about the future of the clan.

"Oh…" How was I supposed to respond? I came to a stop at a small pond, fish swam just beneath the surface. They were completely vulnerable and unaware, just living their lives. But is it really living when you're ignorant to your surroundings? He plopped on the floor, dragging me along with him.

"Anyway, the Fire Daimyo has requested us so, I'll be gone for a few days." Hashirama said, that was an honest surprise.

"Huh?" I squeaked out, he merely smiled back.

"There's gonna be a big battle, the Wind Daimyo hired the Uchiha." He continued, horror bubbled in my chest. Was this the battle where Kawarama…?

"Who's going?" My fear must have been audible because Hashirama sent me a worried look. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer into his side. For a moment, I feared he'd give me the 'stop being so obvious with your emotions' talk that Tobirama liked to spew.

"A lot of Senju, Father's going, so is Tobi." Hashirama offered. "Ra-chan's been begging to go, but he's barely four so Father isn't letting him." Good, Kawarama was only four, but my other brothers were still children as well.

"You're too young." My voice came out with more intention than I had intended. "No kids should have to fight!" Hashirama stared down at me, his eyes more thoughtful before he blinked and his face was blank. I loathed when my brothers did that, _apparently_ it was a common shinobi tactic to go expressionless when handling a sensitive situation.

"I'm nine, Itama, I am a proud shinobi to the Senju Clan." His tone was carefully blank, I gritted my teeth. Fine, if Hashirama thought he was so big and strong, then I'll use his big brother complex.

"And Tobi is seven, he could be killed out there!" I argued. "There could be kids Ra-chan's age!" Hashirama sighed, looking out at the pond with tired eyes. He ran his hands over his face and he turned to face me.

"I don't know why you're disagreeing with me, Ita-chan, I'm not Clan Head, I can't change anything." He finally spoke, his tone suddenly _hurt_ . My heart ached, still I resisted the urge to apologize. "I _know_ that there are kids on the battlefield, I _know_ Tobi could be killed. I'm terrified every second when I'm fighting because I don't want to realize after the fight that one of my little brothers died." His dark orbs were open and vulnerable, he smiled bitterly. "Tobi and Ra-chan were both so eager and proud when they began training that I barely had to worry." _Wait_ , hadn't he just said…?

"What do you-"

"I worry about you a lot too, even if you aren't training yet." Hashirama admitted. Indignation rose in my chest, a burning heat that my face grow hot. How could he worry if I wasn't fighting yet? Why was _I_ even on his mind when our other brothers have an actual chance of dying. "I've seen death, I've killed, I've seen clanmates slaughtered. I know that Tobirama and Kawarama can handle it, but you wear your emotions on your sleeve."

I wanted to tell him that in a few years, Kawarama might die at a tender age. But my mouth wasn't cooperating, my tongue felt heavy as if it was full of lead, frustration filled me at my cowardice. The only reason I couldn't tell anyone was because it'd out me as someone who didn't belong in this world, not even to save my own family.

Hashirama looked back up towards home before facing me again, he smiled softly. "Sorry, you probably can't understand yet." He practically whispered. Is that what he assumed? But it was probably a smart assumption seeing as my body was only physically two. "Just remember, big brother always help you out, alright?"

"Okay." Hashirama got off the ground, dusting his pants as he offered a hand to help me up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't really sure what to do with this chapter, I mainly wanted to build character development before all the action and conflict.
> 
> Hashirama is fun to write, he seems very obvious but I think he is very serious when it comes to his brothers. I made so instead of calling them various versions of brother, there's Hashi, Tobi, Ra-chan, and Ita-chan. The older brothers don't really get 'chan' unless they're being teased.
> 
> I haven't mentioned it but Itama and Kawarama share a room and so does Hashirama and Tobirama. 
> 
> Please comment, this chapter was a pain.


	4. Chapter 4

Lunch was tense that afternoon, not because of me surprisingly. Father actually joined lunch, he usually opted to wait until dinner and get reports of how training was going. He never gave me a spare glance though, I was useless to him until I turn four.

"Where were you this morning, Hashirama?" Father asked, his tone level, it still made my heart pound rapidly in my chest. For my biggest brother's credit, he didn't even flinch and met our Father's gaze evenly.

"I was showing Itama our compound." Hashirama said, only dropping his gaze when Father looked away. My heart was now pounding loudly in my ears as Father laid his gaze on me, I hunched over to seem smaller. Kawarama lightly nudged his shoulder into mine, I sat back up though I couldn't meet his eyes.

"How was that, Itama?" Surprise overcame me and my eyes met his, this was a rare time that I was actually being addressed by Father.

"It - _uh_ \- was nice, I- I _um_ met Aunt Kishi." My voice shook pitifully, though Father didn't even blink.

"Tobirama, how is training?" He turned to my white haired brother.

"It is going well, I have moved on to learning ninjutsu." Tobirama explained, his red eyes only momentarily darting from Father to glance at Hashirama. Hashirama didn't say a word but he eyed Tobirama with surprise.

"Tatsuya informed me of that, have you mastered chakra control yet?"

"Almost, I've been practicing running on water." Here Tobirama looked a little disgruntled, a giggle snuck past my lips as I imagined Tobirama falling into the water. Though luckily I wasn't the only one because Kawarama was shaking with silent laughter, head bowed as he tried to stay quiet.

"Kawarama, how is your training going?" Father questioned, it sounded more like a challenge. Kawarama lifted his head off the table and grinned at Father.

"Real good! Settan-sensei taught me some katas, I can throw kunai too!" He boasted, he threw a smug look over to me. It was odd, maybe because we were a good gap behind Hashirama and Tobirama, Kawarama decided that he had to compete with me but he still ended up trying to be responsible for me. "I should be able to join the fight! I can beat the bunch of losers!" He jumped up, slamming his palms down on the table, this time I nudged him.

"No, Kawarama." Father sighed.

" _But-_ "

"Listen to your father, Kawarama." Mother cut in, her gaze swept across everyone but Father. "You aren't ready for a real battle yet." Kawarama's face went red from embarrassment or shame, he rose from the table with a glare aimed at Mother.

"You're just a _woman_ , what do you know?" He walked away, it hit me like a shock of lightning when I realized his footsteps made no sound.

"Kawarama!" Father called out his retreating form. There was only the telltale sound of our bedroom door slamming to alert me that he didn't leave the house.

"He didn't mean it, Mother." Hashirama spoke softly, turning my attention to Mother. She didn't seem affected except for her tightly clasped hands. Just when I was about to go over to comfort her, her red eyes froze me in place, and I settled back down at my spot.

 

It seemed like forever before Father dismissed us from the table, surprisingly Tobirama was the first one up, headed for Kawarama. The atmosphere was ruined, the beginning of lunch made us look like an almost normal family. Heading back to my and Kawarama's shared bedroom, lagging behind my quicker brothers. Tobirama yanked the door open and stormed in, Hashirama close on his tail. They hadn't noticed me as I lingered in the doorway, merely watching. Kawarama sat on his bed, ignoring them by stubbornly watching a wall.

"What the hell was that?" Tobirama hissed, his back to me. "Where do you get off by talking to them like that?"

"Tobi, calm down." Hashirama attempted to placate.

"I'm trying to help the clan!" Kawarama shouted back, turning to face Tobirama, jutting his chin out. "The more shinobi we have, the better!"

"Ra-chan, don't shout." Hashirama interjected again.

"You're barely a shinobi, all you'd be is a liability in real combat." Tobirama snarled back, a finger jabbing into Kawarama's shoulder. "You'll just end up just throwing your life away!"

"Tobirama, that's a little uncalled-"

"At least people would miss me, nobody even _likes_ you!"

"Kawarama! Cut it out!"

This is what arguing was, words so scathing they make you hurt. Families fight underhanded because for some reason they don't like pulling punches, they know where to stab deeply to make you cry. In my past life, arguments in my family were just like this, screaming matches until voices ran hoarse and then later everyone felt upset. Nobody's points got through and nobody learned, just unhappiness being buried and fake apologies.

The yelling washed over me, until it was like I was underwater with muffled voices of my brothers. Maybe this is what being a shinobi did, my brothers kept their emotions buried so when they did release the negative, it was an explosion that couldn't be contained any longer. And long after the blast ended, the fire came to ruin what was left.

My feet stayed glued to the floor, sticking me in place to endure this screaming match. Oddly, it reminded me of home, and I hated it. Eventually it ended with a shrill screech from Kawarama, demanding them to leave our room. The door slamming in Hashirama and Tobirama's face sealed it. Hashirama stood, looking at the door for a few moments before huffing and turning away. His eyes landed on me and his arms uncrossed almost immediately, a smile replaced his frown.

"Hey, Itama!" Hashirama greeted, arms draping around my shoulder. Tobirama whirled around, his hands unclenched instantly, his eyes flickered between me and Hashirama. "Ra-chan's in a bad mood, so I probably wouldn't go in there." Sometimes I doubt Hashirama, but the boy was very obviously hoping I hadn't been here long. Still, against my will, my wrist rubbed my eyes quickly. When my eyes opened again, both the boys had stilled and were staring at each other, probably talking telepathically or something.

"Hey, hey! No tears, just a disagreement, no reason to cry." Hashirama cooed, bringing me closer into his side.

"'M not." It felt like my throat was trying to choke me, embarrassment burned my face as Tobirama and Hashirama shared another look.

"We'll be going in soon, how about we teach you to throw kunai?" Tobirama asked, his tone carefully devoid of emotion.

 

That's how I found myself being led by hand to a training field, Hashirama rambling mindlessly about kunai while Tobirama rolled his eyes. A row of trees only about ten feet away had targets with holes littering them, the holes mostly centered around the bullseye.

"They're kinda far." My statement earns a giggle from Hashirama, who merely shoves a kunai in my hand. It's not as heavy as it was the first time, it's just as shiny and intimidating though.

"You have to show him how to throw." Tobirama sighed, adjusting the kunai in my hand. He pulls back before giving me a small smile, just barely a quirk of his lips. "Try throwing." My throwing in my past life was never something I was proud of, so maybe my new ninja genes will help. My arm pulled back and threw the kunai, it sailed through the air and _past_ the target.

"A little more to the left." Hashirama advised, nodding his head as he passed me another one.

"Don't throw it high, throw it level." Tobirama added, bringing my hand level with my elbow. "At an arch, it'll be harder to hit the target." Hashirama settled down on the grass, leaning forward with his eyes on the kunai. The kunai soared through the air, it hit the tree and bounced off. Hashirama cheered, clapping loudly with a wide grin.

"Close! A little higher!" A smile made its way onto my face, that definitely was an improvement. This time, Tobirama handed me a kunai.

"He's right, aim higher but stay level." He agreed. This time the kunai sailed smoothly, barely hit the target and it bounced off but it hit the target. This time when Hashirama cheered, he jumped up, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

"Good job! You'll be hitting the center in no time!" Hashirama exclaimed.

"Well done." Tobirama briefly rested his hand on my head.

"You're good teachers." I responded softly, Hashirama released me and ruffled my hair.

 

The send off was nearly an hour later, women, children, and the injured gathered around, all wishing luck to the shinobi. Kawarama stood next to me, my hand in his as we stared at Hashirama and Tobirama, armored up for battle. "Be good for Mother, okay?" Hashirama urged. My gaze turned to Mother to see her chatting with Father, the pair not even looking fazed. Was she not even worried that he might not return?

"Okay." I agreed anyway, turning back to my brothers. Tobirama shifted his eyes on Kawarama, they didn't say a word. "Be careful." Hashirama and Tobirama both nodded, determined gleams in both their eyes. Kawarama fidgeted, his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Shinobi, let's move!" Father called out, leading the group into the deeper forest. Hashirama and Tobirama turned to leave when Kawarama let go of my hand.

"Come back safe, alright?!" He shouted, Hashirama turned his head giving him a thumbs up, Tobirama's eyes softened and he nodded. The group of shinobi disappeared in the trees, leaving the crowd of us standing around. The mood was oddly somber, the women whispered among each other, shifting as even the kids stayed silent. Eventually Mother walked up to us, her eyes still on the treeline.

"I'll be staying here until they return, you can stay or head home." Mother explained. She walked away immediately after, meeting up with Aunt Kishi. Then dread settled in my stomach, curling and churning around. I had possibly watched men and children march into their deaths, I just watched Hashirama and Tobirama run towards the battle. What kind of sibling was I? A hand slipped into mine and Kawarama smiled at me, an attempt at comfort.

"Hashi and Tobi are tough, they'll come back." Kawarama bumped shoulders with me.

"But what about the others?" There were children older than Kawarama but younger than Hashirama, how was that fair? How many kids got picked off during battle so they didn't have time to grow stronger?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, most of this chapter is Itama just freaking out. Definitely was fun writing the argument, because wow a little conflict. Itama is kinda worried all the time because his damn brothers.
> 
> Kawarama: wow Tobi no one would care if you died lol  
> Tobirama & Hashirama: *gets ready to go to war*  
> Also Kawarama: wAiT no plz dont die bro, I love you <3


	5. Chapter 5

Hours had passed, the stirring crowd never calmed. The later it got, the more group of Senju began to panic. It was silent, besides a few whispers or the occasional crying baby. Kawarama stayed the calmest I've ever seen him, his gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, the setting sun's rays landed on his face, making his dark red eyes glow. His knees were at his chest, his chin resting on them. "When are they coming back?" My voice trembled, Kawarama shrugged lightly.

"I don't know." My brother finally spoke, his eyes cautiously darted to mine and he plastered a smile on his face. It was odd, obviously fake and my eyes turned to where the shinobi had left. Kawarama never hesitated, he was abrasive and headstrong because that's who he was. But now, he was a scared kid, waiting to see if his father and brothers would come home alive.

Silence swallowed us back up. Eventually a woman approached us with a few children in tow, her dark eyes ran over us and eventually the nearby women. Her hair was basically exotic, dark strands that rivaled the night. With a clan full of brown, white, and blonde haired people, she was a minority.  

"Excuse me, Kawarama-sama, Itama-sama, my name is Mizuki, me and a few others are preparing dinner for the children, would you like to come?" It sounded nice enough, the moon had begun to rise and we hadn't eaten since lunch. Kawarama narrowed his eyes at her, almost baring his teeth before he glanced at me and sighed.

"Sure." He agreed. We both rose to our feet, the other children smiled at us.

"We're having sukiyaki!" A girl, almost as tall as Kawarama giggled. Her own brown eyes sparkling.

"Yeah! It's gonna be good!" A boy, only a few inches taller than me, grinned, revealing a missing front tooth.

The house we were guided to was warm, tt was very well lit and very cozy. Kawarama held onto my hand tightly because the other children huddled close around us, eyes taking in everything. "Come get settled at the table." A brown haired woman said softly. Even from the living room, the smell of the sukiyaki drifted in, making my mouth water and made more than a few stomachs growl. There was a rush of kids running into the dining room, all eager to finally eat.

I followed at slower pace, Kawarama at my side as we sat at open spots at the table. The few women began sitting bowls in front of the kids, various shouts of 'thank you' rang out loudly.

"My name's Daiki." The boy with the missing tooth offered, his light brown eyes widened as a bowl was placed in front of him. It took me a second to realize he was talking to me and not Kawarama.

"Oh, um… I'm Itama." Daiki was tearing through the food already, slurping up the noodles to look at me. His eyes narrowed as if considering me before he broke out into a smile.

"Your dad is Butsuma?" At my hesitant nod, Daiki's smile grew. "He's my uncle, my mama is Kishi."

"Knew you looked familiar, we're cousins." Kawarama injected. A bowl was finally placed in front of me, the steam wafting off of it and it was calling my name. Shoveling the food into my mouth was a little harder with chopsticks but it didn't stop me. The searing heat of the food burned my tongue and the roof of my mouth, yet I didn't stop.

"Slow down! You'll all get sick!" The oldest girl, maybe thirteen, scolded. No one paid her any mind, she huffed which was oddly audible over the slurping and smacking.

Eventually, my bowl was empty and my stomach felt like it was going to explode. Kawarama sighed and sat back, patting his stomach with his eyes closed. Daiki licked his lips to get rid of the excess sauce, his eyes half lidded.

"We set up cots so you could all sleep." Mizuki offered, as some women began taking empty bowls from tables and into the kitchen. Unbidden, a yawn forced itself past my lips.

"What about our ninja?" A blond girl asked, Mizuki bit her lip. That made me pause, once again, it slipped my mind that my brothers were quite possibly fighting for their lives while I was enjoying dinner. Kawarama went rigid, his previously content mood switched like a lightswitch. A few more children's faces obviously shone their previous distraught mood had returned, Mizuki gazed at all of us.

"We'll wake you when they return." She promised.

 

Hashirama felt dead on his feet, his armor wasn't helping as he ran alongside his clansmen. Tobirama matched his stride, face dreadfully blank and yet Hashirama could read him like a book. "Do you think they'll be awake?" Hashirama asked, not needing to clarify who 'they' were. His brother didn't look over to him but answered anyway.

"No, it's late." The moonlight was a plus, lighting their path back home.

"Can you sense them?" Hashirama asked, wishing to confirm that all his brothers were okay.

"Yes." Tobirama confirmed, Hashirama felt his shoulders drop. While Tobirama had an incredible sensor range, it meant that they were at the most twenty miles away from the compound. A muffled sob was audible, Hashirama looked back to see Naoki carrying the limp body of his younger brother.

The brown haired teen had been insistent to carry little Ren back home, the little boy was six. Various other clansmen were carrying bodies that hadn't made it, luckily all the fallen in the battle would be able to meet their ancestors since all the bodies had been recovered. Another quiet sob shook Hashirama to the core, that could've been him carrying the dead body of Tobirama, but it wasn't.

"I'll see if Noaki needs help." Hashirama informed Tobirama, his white haired brother gave him a nod. Hashirama fell back, enough to match strides with Noaki. He could see Ren's young face was blank, his eyes probably closed by Noaki. "I can-"

"No!" Noaki snapped back, tears sliding down his face and onto Ren. "I was supposed to protect him!" Many clansmen briefly turned to look, still keeping their footing and pace. "If I can't protect him then I'll bring him home." He finished softer. "I owe it to Mother." Hashirama felt his heart stop for a second before it began again, harder and louder.

"I'm sorry." He really was, why were children being slaughtered? Why couldn't the daimyos fix their own problems without ninja?

 

They arrived home, greeted by tears and no children. Hashirama stood on his tiptoes to try and spot his little brothers, the sea of women and a few injured men surrounded them, searching for family members. "Hashirama." Mother breathed, reaching him and lightly caressing his cheek. He smiled as she moved on to greet Tobirama, his brother's eyes warmed as she caressed his cheek.

"Where's Kawarama and Itama?" Hashirama asked, Mother blinked and looked around.

"Oh, Mizuki and a few others rounded up the kids, they're at Haruka's house." Hashirama headed to the house, Tobirama followed closely, and they slipped off their sandals, taking in the sheer amount of small sandals at the door. Haruka smiled at them, Hashirama opened his mouth to ask where his brothers were when she spoke.

"The children are sleeping, follow me." He followed Haruka eagerly, wanting to make sure his brothers were safe. In the bedroom, it was almost full with cots lined up in neat rows, Hashirama and Tobirama walked through them and saw the white/brown hair of Itama. The two youngest were curled up together, the paranoia in Hashirama's chest faded at the sight.

"Told you." Tobirama commented quietly.  

 

I stood dead on my feet, swaying as a yawn ripped itself from my throat. The sun hadn't even begun to rise but the whole clan was up ready to perform a mass funeral. Father stood on a little stage, the sea of Senju stood behind us. "Today, our clansmen will walk among on ancestors." Father began, his voice booming and yet bland. "First, a moment of silence."

It wasn't really necessary as the clan was fully silent, babies probably sleeping in their mothers arms. Yet my eyes closed, trying to focus on respect on my fallen clan members, majority of them not living to see their eighteenth birthday. My knees buckled underneath me, making my snap my eyes open. I could feel Tobirama's gaze on me, his disapproval heavy.

Father had began speaking again, meaning that I must've dozed off during the silence. Guilt swirled heavily in my stomach, funerals were meant to give respect and say goodbye, not sleep. "Our clansmen gave the ultimate sacrifice, giving their lives for the clan." It seemed odd to say clansmen when some were just _boys_ , boys that didn't know of any life outside of this; outside of warring and fighting. "Today, all the fallen are fully fledged shinobi."

There was a harsh intake of breath, like someone sucking air through their teeth. Looking over, Hashirama had his fists balled and eyes narrowed, not even looking at Father but rather straight ahead into the distance. Was his brother finally questioning the life they lived? Was it even supposed to happen this early? Father began reciting the names of the fallen, his monotonous voice seemed cruel to the families that choked back sobs at the sound of the names.

 

The bodies were buried in the forest, near the compound under trees. The sun had risen and my feet just shuffled to my home.

"I'm gonna change stuff." Hashirama hissed to me, quietly as not to be overheard. His hand clutched mine tightly like a lifeline, his dark eyes steeled with determination. "I promise."

"I know." My response was meant to be comforting because _something_ happened. Something that fueled Hashirama and put a fire under him, maybe it was a good thing.

 

Unusually, we all piled into Hashirama's bed, even Tobirama. Sleep claimed me quickly and I was out.

 

"Looks like Tsubasa won't make it." Kento sighed, Butsuma nodded heavily. He wished that Tsubasa's death was war related, it was easier to announce the fallen names in a mass funeral. Instead of privately telling a family that their nine year old ate poisonous plants and couldn't be saved. "One less shinobi out on the fields." Kento continued bitterly, his gray hair limply in his face. Butsuma wasn't surprised, Kento also had brothers that died young, he was the only surviving male of his immediate family.

"It's a shame." He agreed.

"When's your youngest starting training?" Kento asked him, nodding towards Itama who was attempting to climb a tree. His short arms reached high, desperately grasping at a branch above his head.

"He'll turn four in one more season, he was born in the summer." Butsuma felt the need to clarify. Kento hummed, eyes still focused on Itama.

"You're not going to wait for five years? Then again, you didn't even wait five years for your winter baby." Kento asked surprised. Butsuma fought the urge to snort, children born in the winter were perceived as weaker, which was amusing seeing as Tobirama was born late winter, his second son was already proving to be strong. Itama had managed to pull himself onto the branch, straddling the branch and already looking up at the next one.

"Are you insinuating that my son is weak?" He challenged, narrowing his eyes at his clanmate. Kento finally looked at Butsuma, eyes wide with surprise while he carefully began to explain.

"Well no, but Itama-sama tends to be a little _softer_ than your other children." Kento coughed, his eyes now focused at Butsuma's feet. It would be considered direct disrespect to insult a father about his son, to call them more sensitive or weaker than average. "Not that is a bad thing!" Kento hurried to add, becoming panicked under Butsuma's stare and silence.

"Itama!" Butsuma called instead, his youngest startled, flinching and nearly falling from the tree. "Come here." His bi-colored haired son was only a few feet off the ground, hardly impressive, in a year he'll be climbing it in seconds. Itama hesitated before slowly scaling down, each movement painfully slow and cautious. Finally he reached the ground and sprinted across the distance, still embarrassingly slow compared to the average Senju boy.

"Yes, Father?" Itama asked, body unnaturally stiff and tone carefully blank. Kento snickered quietly, Butsuma knew the other man had noticed his son's attempt at respect. Itama's eyes flickered between them both, visibly confused. Despite Itama's attempt, his body and tone still broadcasted his emotions to the most rookie shinobi.

"What were you doing on that tree?" Butsuma questioned, Itama blinked, unsure.

"I was… training." He spoke quietly, almost inaudible to Butsuma.

Kento interjected, kneeling down to Itama's level. "Training? Why don't you go play?" Itama's face looked stricken, eyes wide and frightened like a rabbit. Butsuma fought a disapproving growl, no son of his should cower at his clanmates.

"Well- um… I'm kinda good at kunai already. So I thought-"

"Who taught you to throw kunai?" Butsuma interrupted his son's stammering. His son _flinched_ , as if Butsuma would ever lay a hand on his children outside of sparring.

"Hashi and Tobi." Itama whispered, hands over his mouth, muffling his words.

"Hm, very well." Butsuma looked over to Kento, who had risen back to his full height. "When Itama turns four, you'll be his sensei." Kento's eyes widened comically, and Itama squeaked in disbelief. It wasn't usual protocol to inform a mentor and the child before the child turned four, but it wasn't much of a concern.

If Kento happened to give Itama pointers before he turned four, then it happened, none of Butsuma's concern. Maybe his _soft_ son would have a better chance to not come home dead.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, don't know if yall noticed but the Butsuma pov is a year later. He's trying to be a good dad, he's trying.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little bit of time skipping in here, nothing major, just a few days at a time.

Kento was actually a pretty nice guy, he coached me through climbing trees, running laps around the compound, and throwing shuriken. He helped me through the basics before my training actually began, most of the time he just watched from the sidelines with a small smile. 

"You're really good at kunai." Kento noted, he was absently spinning a shuriken on his finger. "Let's see if your skill with shuriken can match it." Kunai had began as a distraction at my messed up world, turns out if you practice often it could become a proficient skill.

Training was important to me, if I trained then I could live. If my training went well enough then I be able to make someone indisposed without killing them. The idea of killing someone made me feel sick to my stomach.

 

After my usual laps around the compound ended up fewer than usual due to the cold air making my chest ache, Tobirama was waiting in front of our house. His red eyes roamed over my body critically, before meeting my brown eyes. 

"You're training." Tobirama commented idly, like he was stating a fact. For some reason, it made me nervous, which it shouldn't have because it was only Tobirama.

"Yeah," My half-hearted shrug earned me narrowed eyes. "Just some stamina stuff." My white haired brother rolled his eyes.

"Does Father know?" 

"Of course." My bland reply seemed to make Tobirama twitch and he exhaled audibly. It was actually puzzling, why was he so worked up about training?

"You're still three." The statement's tone sounded kinda like a protest, but why would Tobirama protest? My brother was always serious about being a shinobi, he preached our rules and could probably recite them in his sleep.

"Something wrong, Tobi?" Tobirama crossed his arms, his jaw tight. My bewilderment only grew, Tobirama wasn't one that reacted too physically, so this was just confusing.

"No." My brother grunted between his gritted teeth. 

" _Right_." 

"Come inside, you'll catch a cold." It was probably true, summer had quickly died, leaving a surprisingly bitter and chilly fall in its place. The wind was sharp and cold when it blew hard enough, soon it'd be cold enough to make your limbs go numb if you are out long enough. 

"Okay." Nevermind the fact that I was preparing to do so before he stopped me. 

 

The weather got worse, cold enough if you ran your throat and lungs would burn after mere minutes. Father was the only one that went outside during the worst of it, bundled up in layers that I didn't know we had. Our winters were never this bad, nevermind fall, something about this time period was that we didn't have heat. If it was cold we got blankets and thick clothes, kept the oven on and pressed against each other. This reminded me that while the anime took place in a time technology was common, it wasn't advanced like my world. Even if they had technology, that was nearly a century from now, we didn't even have electricity. 

 

Most of the time, we gathered in the kitchen, Mother bustled around to cook something warm. She hummed quietly, eyes would sometimes dart to us, huddled together tightly. "The tea is almost ready." She informed us. 

"It's _cold_." Kawarama whined, as if we didn't know already, though his teeth chattered as he spoke. In my other life, our home would get super hot in the summer and super cold in the winter, sadly this body hadn't felt my past life's abuse so I wasn't prepared.

"I know, it's a bad autumn this year." Mother nodded in agreement. Hashirama coughed into his sleeve before speaking up.

"Where's Father?" He immediately coughed again. I leaned away from him, there was no way I was catching whatever he caught. Tobirama and Kawarama had did the same in unison with me, there was an obvious few inches of space in between us and Hashirama. He glared pitifully at us, a pout forming on his lips. "My throat only-" He coughed, "itches, that's why I'm-" another a few coughs, "coughing."

"Getting sick hinders progress." Tobirama stated. 

"Not sick." Hashirama, once again finished his sentence with a whopping five coughs, each getting progressively less forceful and weaker. Looking up, Mother stood with a small smile at the scene, her eyes wistful. 

"Your Father is checking up on the clan, making sure everyone has warm clothes and that they have enough supplies for their oven." That was a surprise, checking up on everyone? Making sure no one died of the cold in their little wooden houses? "Tea is ready." Within a minute of that, a steaming hot cup of tea was in each of our grasps.

"Thank you, Mother." We chorused. In my past life, I'd much rather to drink hot chocolate because all the tea I had been forced to drink was bitter. Like actual, 'straight out of the box' bitter, 'actual gagging' bitter. Even in this life, we hadn't drank it at all to my memories. Tobirama was the first to drink it, bringing the tea cup to lips and gulping down the tea. I was impressed, didn't peg Tobirama for a tea drinker.

"Echinacea?" Tobirama asked. Mother's smile widened a few centimeters and nodded. Since Tobirama hadn't recoiled at the taste, my assumption was that it wasn't too bitter. Bringing the cup to my mouth, it made my mouth tingle, it had a hint of mint. It wasn't too bitter though, but wasn't overly sweet sadly. Both Kawarama and Hashirama were drinking their tea, apparently in some sort of chugging race, Tobirama just sipped on his.

A gust of fresh cold air brought us to shiver closer together, Father walked in, his ears and nose red with cold.

"How did it go?" Mother asked, pouring him a cup of tea and shoving it into his hands. Father eyed us, we were in a tight bundle, sitting up on the floor with wide eyes.

"A few homes needed more food, a few man-less families combined for the storm."

"Storm?" It took me a second to realize it hadn't been one of my brothers, it was me. Father stared again, his eyes stern and my heart sunk, but before I could mutter an apology, he continued.

"It started snowing."

"Really?" Kawarama gasped, his eyes wide with excitement. Snow was rare in the Land of Fire, last time it snowed more than a few centimeters was around my birth. "Can we-"

"No." Father drank some of his tea, ignoring how the four of us slouched in disappointment. "Catching a serious cold or fever could kill you."

"We'll be safe!" Hashirama coughed, his tone begging. 

"Mind your father." Mother interjected. "Either that or head to bed." It was actually kinda sad, snow was a novelty, even back in my first life when it wasn't, kids would hustle outside to make use of the snow before it got dirty and mushy.

"Though some shinobi had told me their concerns, about another clan ambushing us while we're weak." Father continued as if there was no interruptions, he settled down at the table.

"Is that a valid concern?" Mother asked, pouring more tea in his cup. She moved around the table to refill ours also. Father rolled his eyes, snorting in quiet amusement.

"No, no clan worth their merit would send shinobi in these terrible conditions. They'd be dead in a day or two." It seemed odd, the scene that played out in front of me. Mother mainly used filler to move the conversation along, never bouncing it to a new subject unless Father is hinting at it. Was it a forced marriage or one out of love? The thought never occurred to me before, was she happy?

"Hopefully none of our own were rallying for battle?" Mother continued to ask.

"Just the paranoid, suggesting we have scouts in the around the compound. The fools even offering themselves to do it." Father shook his head.

"How's Aunt Kishi?" Hashirama piped up, honest curiosity dripping from his voice. 

"She's fine." Father answered blandly.

 

The cold had receded a few days later, taking the snow with it, leaving the ground a muddy mess. Father had decided to observe me and Kawarama in a spar, our very first spar with each other. My first spar in general. That meant, Hashirama, Tobirama, Mother, and Kento had gathered to watch. 

"Don't take it too hard, 'kay?" Kawarama called teasingly, already slipping into his stance naturally. That left me scrambling to follow his lead, distancing my feet from one another to gain a center of gravity. From what I know about my brother was he rushed into things headfirst, spars shouldn't be any different.

"Begin." Father called. Kawarama eyed me for a second, surprisingly wary about running in. My arms shook and he grinned before sprinting over, he was faster than me. Instinctively, I stumbled back a few steps, only seconds later his fist swung on air where my face had been. A smug remark was about to bubble out of me when his fist continued upward, pain exploded on my jaw.

His next swing was blocked with my forearm, only for him to swing around on one foot and his leg connected to the back of my knees. My body crumbled instantly into the mud, my legs failed me under the kick. His shadow over me blocked the sun, hinting he was standing over me. My fists clenched, my ears burned at the sound of the squelching mud in my hand. How was this fair? I barely had a week of training while Kawarama had two years! My face heated up, anger burned through me, and I climbed to my feet.

"Hey, you okay?" Kawarama fussed, his dark red eyes apologetic. My teeth clicked together, gritting harder when a piece of mud fell from me and splattered on the ground. Against myself, I scanned my other brothers' faces, their eyes lit up with pity. How was I supposed to protect them if I couldn't protect myself from them? My gaze moved to Father, morbidly curious to see what he thought from this fight, only to see him conversing with Kento and some other man. Did he even watch? Most likely not, I was his fourth son, his most expendable one.

He hadn't even spoke to me directly until years after I was born. 

Then he waved over Hashirama, my brother blinked in surprise but rose from his knees. The men talked while Hashirama looked between them, no confusion but merely listening. A hand landed on my shoulder, I fought the urge to shake it off as Kawarama guided me towards Tobirama.

"What's going on?" Kawarama asked Tobirama, our white haired brother rose from his knees.

"Most likely someone has recruited us." Tobirama answered, his eyes on the talking group. Kawarama perked up, turning his head to observe the men.

"Tobirama, Kawarama." Hashirama called, inclining his head towards the group of men that had began to walk away. It was about the clan, I wouldn't be allowed to join until I fought in my first real battle. Tobirama nodded in understanding, beginning to follow at a steady pace while Kawarama raced ahead to catch up. A hand brushed through my hair, fingers threading easily through. 

"You did well." Her voice was soft and sympathetic, my heart pounded in my ears. "It was foolish of Butsuma to have you fight him so soon." That was surprising, Mother never criticized Father but here she was. 

"How can I protect them if I'm weak?" My voice trembled, pitiful to my own ears. Against my wishes, my eyes began to become blurry with tears, desperately I grabbed handfuls of my pants to distract myself. Mother's hand moved from my hair to my hand, giving me a small smile.

"You'll grow stronger in time." She responded. "But for now, let's get you cleaned up." The walk home was made bearable by the lack of stares, it made sense because this was a ninja society, training your toddler was socially acceptable and was even recommended. 

 

"It's not bad." Mother said, dabbing at my jaw with a cool towel. "Just a little coloring." 

"It was bad!" My objection was swift, my lips pressed tightly together. "Father wasn't even _looking_." Mother frowned lightly, the towel dabbing harder into my jaw causing a little hiss from me.

"Pouting isn't becoming of a shinobi." She responded, turning my head to face her. "Maybe you and your Cousin Daiki can spar." Daiki was only a physical few months older than me, with his birthday in the spring and mine in the summer. It was more even matching than me and Kawarama. 

"You'd think Aunt Kishi will let us? She's been kinda moody lately." Mother raised an amused eyebrow, her hand running in my hair.

"She's pregnant." My mouth dropped into an 'O' shape, Mother _giggled_ , soft and airy laughs shook her body. She stopped after a few seconds, quickly composing herself. "I'll have to ask Kishi about setting up a training session together." Maybe that's why Mother is a little softer, maybe she's got baby fever and my body is kinda close to a baby? Soft creaking of the door alerted me to someone entering, it wasn't really alarming but most likely was one of my brothers.

"Hey, Ma, don't worry, I'll cheer up Ita-" Hashirama spoke before he came into our sight, he paused at the sight of me sitting on the couch with Mother playing with my hair. "Oh, nevermind."

"'Ma'?" I teased, drawing it out. It made sense that Hashirama had a soft spot for Mother but I really expected Tobirama to call her that. His eyes stayed on my jaw for a long moment before he smiled. 

There was a fresh bruise on my jaw, an angry red in color. 

 

"You're leaving?!" My outrage rang out loudly, my brothers stood in their armor at the door. They blinked at me, looking at each other, apprehension obvious even to me. "Already? Were you even going to say goodbye?"

"Of course! At the sendoff, we always do." Hashirama grinned, his hand rubbing the back of his head. My fists clenched into tight balls yet I swallowed back my retort that was on my tongue. "When we come back, I'll help you with kunai." It was supposed to be a promise, a thing for us to bond over and have fun together but I didn't need help with it anymore. Tobirama's mouth turned slightly downwards, not quite a frown, he had been noticing my progress and knew the truth.

"Promise?" Still, it would be nice to spend time with them again. Hashirama beamed, bending down with an outstretched pinky, I followed suit.

"Promise!" We intertwined them tightly before releasing them. 

 

Mother sat on the couch, silently reading with the light but constant tapping of her foot. I sat on the floor polishing my kunai. Every so often she'd look up at me, a small frown marring her face. "Itama, come here." Obediently, I abandoned my kunai to stand at her side. She sat the book down on her lap, focusing her red gaze on me. "Typically, you would begin to learn to read and write when you begin training. But you always were the exception." She muttered the last sentence, bitterness rising in her tone.

"Huh?" She turned the book so its pages were facing me, the characters seemed like absolute nonsense to me.

"What can you read from this?" The easy answer was nothing, but I squinted and tried to see if I could decipher anything from it. Despite watching anime, I never was interested in Japanese, too different from English. Mother was silent and finally she resumed after my defeated shrug. "It's important as a Senju Shinobi to be able to read our ancient text."

"Just the text?" At my response, Mother shook her head lightly.

"Not quite, the text is considered the building blocks of understanding our clan." Mother explained. An idea bloomed in me, and my eyes turned to her's. It would be interesting to know how deeply this blood feud ran, how it affected those who didn't even engage in combat.

"Do you think that we will ever stop fighting? Like a truce?" Mother's eyes hardened instantly, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulled me closer. Her red eyes were too much for me to look straight on.

"Look at me, Itama." Hesitantly our eyes met, her intensity had not calmed at all. "Don't you dare speak another word of that aloud, not to anyone." 

"Sorry." I apologized, ducking my head. It was something that didn't give me the urge to genuinely apologize about, it was going to happen.

"This could be considered as treason, don't say that ever again, _especially_ to your father or any of his advisors." That made me pause, Father would probably punish me to set an example for all the other youths with the same thoughts. Against myself, a shiver ran down my spine.

 

 

"Itama!" Arms wrapped around my shoulders as someone threw their body on top of mine, quickly sending us both to the ground. It was obviously Daiki, as the young boy buried his face in the back of my neck. Mother giggled, Aunt Kishi laughed loudly and Daiki laughed, puffs of air hitting my neck causing me to squirm.

"Daiki! Get off!" My cousin sat up, still sitting on my back. His finger jabbed me in the head, fruitlessly I looked over to our mothers' for help but they just watched with smiles. Of course they'd think a toddler tackling another into the floor was cute.

"You think you can beat me in a spar, little cousin?" Daiki demanded, _so this is what this was about_ …

Yet he just jabbed his fingers into my sides not giving me time to respond, dragging them down my ribs, ignoring my shrieks. Alongside my screams for help were his demonic cackles at my helplessness, while Aunt Kishi roared with laughter in the background. No doubt, Mother was also silently shaking with giggles. Daiki paused, allowing me to actually breathe, my face burning from exertion. "That's… not allowed in a spar." I huffed, turning to glare at him. 

"Oh yeah?" Daiki teased, positioning his fingers right by my side. Wiggling out of grip wasn't effective, despite knowing this, I redoubled my efforts. "How about every time you lose to me, I will." Before my reply left my lips, he assaulted me again. 

It was really a downside of this body, while probably the most athletic I've ever been in either lives, I was ticklish. No one else really bothered but Daiki, he liked exploiting my weakness. Still, Daiki was refreshing, a happy, normal child in such a fucked up world. Even though he was technically older than me, he was like the little brother I never had.

 

Mother was sick. Her face was flushed red, eyes glassy, and her movements slow and sluggish. "Are you okay?" Mother nearly started, turning to see me perched on the table. She smiled in a way that was obviously meant to be disarming, but the sweat on her face made me frown.

"Yes, Itama." She responded calmly. My frown grew, she never outright lied to me before. Still, something was wrong, wrong enough for her to lie to me. Hopefully Father and my brothers would be home soon enough to help me with her, she was surprisingly stubborn.

 

 

I followed her during the days we were alone. Not stalking, just following at her heels. She didn't leave the house, merely cleaning but she didn't hum. This was the most time I've spent with her since I was a baby. "Do you have any siblings?" Mother didn't obviously react, only her eyebrows pulling together as she stared at me made the answer known. "What were their names?" I purposefully used past tense, knowing how unlikely it was for children to survive to adulthood.

"I had three brothers, one older, two younger." Mother began quietly, her hands shook. "Give me a second." She shakily rose from her chair, her eyes distant as she walked into her room. Guilt twisted deep in my stomach, why was I forcing her to remember her long dead brothers? Mother returned a minute later, with a scroll. She sat and unfurled it carefully, revealing it was a painting of children.

Four children sat on stools, eyes dull and hair wild. There were four of them, just like it was four of us. "This is Aguri, the eldest." Her pale finger lightly ran over the boy's face. He was barely entering adolescence, his face clinging onto the roundness of childhood yet his brown eyes were blank. His hair was stark white like Mother's and Tobirama's, sticking up in every direction with no resistance.

"In this picture, he was twelve. He died when he was fifteen, the Inuzuka tore him apart." The thought of Aguri made my head spin, my stomach churned, _tore him apart_? Maybe it was a foolish assumption to make that every Senju was killed by the Uchiha and vice versa.

"This was me, I was eleven." She pulled me out of my thoughts, taking in the painting of her. She sat straight, her eyes on her lap and hands folded together. Her wild mane of hair had been somehow manipulated to be straight, falling to her shoulders. It was strange, they were already so submissive and beat at such a young age. "Next born was Kazuma, he was eight in this picture and when he died." Kazuma sat with his pants clenched with his hands, his eyes narrowed presumably at the artist, and a grown hand on his shoulder.

The rest of the person holding him was off the picture, yet Kazuma was sporting a deep purple bruise on his cheek. He reminded me a lot of Kawarama, in a single picture he showed his restless nature. "He was so proud of each bruise and scar, he demanded that the bruise was to be included in the painting." Mother recalled with a soft smile. Relief rose in me, Kazuma had fight in him, in the mere eight years of his living, he fought every second.

"Last was Itsuma, he was six in this picture, seventeen when he died." My head jerked to her at the name, it was close but not. He was the only one with light brown hair, his face round and full, brown eyes focused off the painting, at the person the hand belonged to. "You were named after him." I was nothing like him, it only took one look at the painting to find that out. His brown eyes were steely and determined, his mouth pulled into a serious scowl. 

"How'd he go?" My question came out strained. Mother looked away from the painting, her eyes unusually wistful.

"He killed himself." Mother spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "It was a shame to the Clan, your paternal grandfather, Ryouma had to order his body to be destroyed." A few tears slid down her face before she composed herself. "As you know, if a Senju body isn't recovered after they die-"

"They never reunite with our ancestors." That was the common belief in the clan and it all came together. Mother wasn't too affected by her other brothers deaths because she believes that she'll see them when she dies, unlike Itsuma who will never greet her when she dies. "Did Hashirama and Tobirama meet Uncle Itsuma?"

"They probably don't remember him, Hashirama was three when Itsuma died and Tobirama was only one." Mother attempted to speak carefully but her voice shook. "After Kawarama, your father _gracefully_ allowed me to name you somewhat after Itsuma." Bitterness exuded from her tone, eyes momentarily darkening with emotion. "When they come back, I'll get a painter to make one with you and your brothers."

 

Kawarama was _exhausted_ , the 'battle' was totally stupid and went on too long. Some merchant families had a blood feud going and accused each other of trespassing, the _brilliant_ merchants decided to hire shinobi. The traveling took a day, the politics and discussion took two, the battle only half a day, and two more days back due to carrying corpses.

It was a stupid way to lose shinobi, and he was glad to finally be back home. Itama would probably be upset, to be left behind for such a long time… hopefully Daiki kept him busy. As he stepped into the clearing of the compound, the few clanmates around greeted him with hair ruffles and grins. Kawarama looked around for Itama and Mother, but he couldn't see them in the crowd. Aunt Kishi approached, her face weirdly serious.

"Brother, something terrible happened." She immediately addressed Father.

"What happened?" Kawarama demanded, what could possibly be terrible enough for them not to be able to rest. Then a hand covered his mouth, pressing down hard enough to stop him from continuing. He looked over to Hashirama, who sternly glared at him.

"It's Azumi." His heart sank and Hashirama's hand dropped in shock. _What was wrong with Mother_ , he fought the urge to voice his question.

"Show me her." Father commanded, Aunt Kishi obediently began leading the way to the medical bay, clanmates easily moving out of their way. Father slammed the door open with a loud bang, Kawarama paused as he caught sight of her on the row of cots. She couldn't be dead. She wouldn't leave them behind like this. She was supposed to be safe in the compound, all children and women were safe in the compound.

He approached, his movements tense and slow as Father rested two fingers on her wrist. Hashirama and Tobirama crowded at Father's sides, eyes on him, waiting for a reaction. Instead, Father's breathing shook and he withdrew his fingers, head shaking. 

"She can't be dead!" Kawarama protested, she couldn't be. She had been alive and smiling before they had left! Tobirama instantly placed his fingers on her wrist, while Hashirama's head dropped. Kawarama's throat tightened, his shoulders dropped and he tried to hold back the welling tears.

"Itama, do you want to come out now?" Aunt Kishi's unusually quiet voice carried across the silent room. Kawarama turned and saw her crouched near a chair, underneath was Itama. Except, his light brown eyes were distant and his face was empty of expression. It was something Kawarama never wanted to see on his little brother. "Maybe later then?" Aunt Kishi continued without gaining a response.

She stood up, turning towards them with a thin smile. "He's been like this since we found them." Kawarama didn't know who she was addressing, but among his family, Father was looking pensively at the wall, Tobirama was still trying to find a pulse and Hashirama… Hashirama was already making his way over to Itama.

"I'm here, Ita." Hashirama said to Itama. His eldest brother pulled his youngest brother into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"Go rest, you'll have a week off to recover." Father spoke again, his dark eyes swept over them. "Her funeral will be in a few hours." 

 

I always wondered how my brothers could be emotionless in high states of stress, how they could flip like a switch. They did it to avoid getting hurt in battle, to avoid breaking down and being killed. But it wasn't a battle that claimed our mother, so they openly grieved. They quietly cried at her funeral, choking back sobs as she was buried. I couldn't remember doing a thing, my whole body numb and felt ice cold.

It was hell. She was gone. Most of the time, I was pulled along by hand, mostly to sit in nature and reflect. Hashirama sobbed out in the forest the most, sitting with his legs crossed as he cried. Tobirama trained, frustrated cries escaping him whenever he failed. Kawarama stayed by her grave, as if waiting for her to get up. Was this how my first family reacted to my death? Was my body even recovered to send off?

"You alright, buddy?" Kento sat next to me, eyes instantly drawn on the koi pond. "It's been a few days." The fish swirled each other, almost like they were chasing each other.

"I'll be back to training soon." My voice gave no inclination of being bothered. 

"Not what I was asking, bud." His hand ruffled my hair, before he continued. "I know it's hard, my twin died when we were fourteen." Surprise made me look at him, he smiled at me. "Tough stuff for a teen to go through, he was my rock, he helped keep me alive through most of our childhood." Kento's eyes became wistful, turning back to the pond. "It doesn't get any better with time, you just learn to deal with it."

"How do you deal?" 

"Haruto, my brother, was killed by the Hyuuga, I killed his murderer in a fit of rage." Kento began, his voice dropping an octave. "I made damn sure that his body was never recovered for my brother. I deal knowing the shinobi that killed him would never find peace and will forever wonder this Earth as a ghost." The ruthlessness in his voice didn't surprise me, his brown eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

This is what being a shinobi meant, killing without hesitation, killing for vengeance. Even the anger in him couldn't rose me, I felt just as numb as before. Kento must've realized that and frowned slightly. "Let's go put you to use." My sensei leapt to his feet, striding away.

"Use?" My question was ignored as I followed him.

 

It was a contraption made out of sticks, inside was an average side rabbit. "Kill it." Kento commanded. My eyes widened and I whimpered, the brown rabbit hopped around it's prison. Kento looked over at me then to the rabbit with slight exasperation. "Your father is supposed to take you out hunting to get you used to killing, but he's been busy since your mother died. The rabbit will provide food for the clan." Still, the rabbit scratched its ear, the floppy ears flopped wildly.

"I can't!" In neither of my lives had I killed something, not for food or self defense. To kill a helpless creature? My stomach churned dangerously. "We don't eat rabbits!" 

"With winter approaching rapidly, we don't get picky, Itama." Kento shoved a kunai in my hand, it felt heavy in my grip. Tears burned in my eyes as I shook. "Think of the clan." 

"I _can't_!" Tears began rolling down my face. 

"Alright, bud, it's okay." Kento patted my back briefly before taking the kunai from me. He got closer to the trap, tucking the kunai away and grabbed the rabbit by the nape of the neck. Its legs kicked out wildly as it attempted to escape. 

"Wait…" Realization made my eyes go wide as he grabbed it by the face. "Don't-!" With a hard jerk back, there was a snap and the rabbit went limp.

"See, buddy? Easy." Kento smiled back at me, still holding the lifeless corpse. "Though if you killed it with the kunai, it'd be across the neck to hit the main veins or whatever." Kento tossed the bunny in a little drawstring bag, giving me a pat on the head. "Let's go fishing, you've killed fish before, right?" 

"Yeah…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is kinda depressing. So, their mother is dead, all the kids are traumatized, and Butsuma is... well Butsuma.
> 
> Told yall it was time skipping, there were no birthdays so...  
> Hashirama is 10  
> Tobirama is 8  
> Kawarama is 5  
> Itama is 3
> 
> Yay for child soldiers.


	7. Chapter 7

I'll be rewriting previous chapters due to my writing style changing, and it makes me kinda unhappy to look back on previous chapters.

While my style hasn't radically changed, I believe the story will flow better now instead of being so stilted. There will be added scenes and I hope to write emotions better. 

I will most likely make a new story for the rewrite so this original one will still be available if you guys want.

 

Thank you for being so patient!


	8. It's Up!!!

The first chapter of the rewrite is up! I'm using a different program to write and it makes me feel more confident in writing. Guh, I love it already, feels like it had more personality already.


End file.
